


Love Letters

by Leshan



Series: The Best of Indulgent Red One [1]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshan/pseuds/Leshan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One love letter to Louis, and another to David.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

> The following are selected excerpts from Livejournal Account “Indulgent Red: Volume One” Should you enjoy this writing yet come upon names and/or situations with which you are unfamiliar or would like to explore further, the entire collection can be found by visiting http://indulgentred.livejournal.com/ - It should be noted that Indulgent Red is no longer an active or monitored community. Questions regarding the content should be directed ***privately*** to the email address on file with AO3 or via private message. Thanks for reading, and in advance for your feedback.

 

**The Best of Indulgent Red**

**Love Letters**

* * *

 

**15 September 2007 @ 04:52 pm**

**Cher Louis**

 

Florence, Italy From a Cafe Near the Church of Santa Maria Novella:

_My Darling Louis, Perspective is an odd thing, haven't we agreed on before? I've been here for only about a month and a half without you, having left our connubial bliss, and it seems like it has been several months. Despite the company here, you are never far from my thoughts. Young Lucas, for all his physical charms, is certainly not you, my beloved - and now that he is moving on so wonderfully to the University as planned, my mind is more than ever concentrating on how soon it might be before once again I get to hold you. The weather here is turning cooler now and though it does not bother us so much as it might others, it intrudes on the memory of you and I on the Amalfi beach last summer. Remember playing in the water like mortal lovers, and the taste of the sea salt on one another's skin? You know me, sometimes I frown when I remember things as I'm doing now. It bothers me that memories are just that, two dimensional things that can only swim to life in your mind. Do you think we'll be around to see technology make it so that we can really, really relive such moments? Let's hope so! I know, I'm digressing, but really - it was such a wonderful night! You haven't said much in our phone calls about the situation with the land and the Reverend. I'm very interested to know how that situation has progressed. Have you spoken to him at length as you planned or did you abruptly dispatch him? I know. I see that disapproving look even as I write this to you! Between seeing that in my head and seeing collectively the disapproving looks of David and Marius in my head, I know, I know. Still, you could dispatch a Reverend you know, they're not exempt from our occasionally chosen brand of menacing. The mortals are hoping Louis, that you will hold true to your words posted in your journal and come here to Italy. Will you? Do you know I have some lingering doubt? Then again, I always do, don't I? For all this time I've been here, I've lain awake at the edge of dawn and thought, "He won't come. He'll make an excuse and he will leave me here because I ran off so suddenly!" Then I feel almost as if I cannot breathe. Honestly, that you have such an effect on me after all our time together both good and bad makes me smile and I might even guess that it brings a bit of blush color to my face on these nights when the air is cool and my arms are longing for the solidity of your body. Hard to explain that I suppose to anyone who doesn't understand, but of course you know there is a distinct difference between the yielding flesh of a mortal and one of our own kind. That is not to say that I haven't had my pleasures while I've been here, and I pray you won't begrudge the fact. I've explained it before, Louis... I love you... ah, I love you infinite and free like the Neruda poem about poetry itself, how does it say,_

_"And I,infinitesimal being,_

_drunk with the great starry void,_

_likeness, image of mystery,_

_felt myself a pure part of the abyss,_

_I wheeled with the stars,_

_my heart broke loose on the wind."_

_That is how I love you. You are my Neruda lines and my Rumi visions, Louis... forever. Everything else, I love - and I love strongly, deeply, profoundly, but never so inexplicably as I love you. There, now smile that smile for me, and make your plans for Italy hm? Work out things with the Reverend if he's still about and pestering you. Perhaps extend a hand to David for some assistance? Pack those Vuitton bags and get over here. I miss you sweet Louis. I miss our snuggling by the fire, the way your hair looks a shock after we make love, driving with you along the winding roads, walking with your hand in mine along a dark corridor in Venice...._

_All of this I yearn for in tender pain._

_Come and soothe me._

* * *

 

 

 

 

**12 June 2007 @ 07:01 pm**

**David Has A Birthday - Letters and Hidden Copulations**

                                                                                                                                    

_I received an Aztec wall of vision_

_& dissolved my room in sweet derision _

_Closed my eyes, prepared to go_

_A gentle wind inform'd me so_

_And bathed my skin in ether glow_

~ Jim Morrison

 

Last night, David came to call. It was his birthday in terms of mortal years, and it felt too long since we’d been together as one, with too many shards of careless glass in between our steps. Birthdays of course are rather meaningless when one has eternity to count the years, yet still they were of some significance, if only to mark the fact that we still touched the earth and moved about in the night as if we were something close to Gods, even if we were closer to the opposite in the eyes of our detractors.

I greeted him warmly in the light of the front parlor and presented him with a letter I’d begun a week before. It required time to gather my thoughts and spill them out onto such fine stationary, for words were important to me. As well, in my habitual impulsive fashion, I had been unkind to David and wished to see him smile at these words in replacement of the utter solemnity my little verbal barb had caused upon his features.

Should I share part of it with the world? I’m not quite sure, but it would work if you pretend you’re not reading just now and I’ll play along.

_Dearest David,_

_How it is tonight to sit and ponder all the years you have been in my life. The first night we met is clearly etched in my mind as if no time has passed. You sat there before the roaring fire in the Motherhouse, reading up on my kind and I was aching to give you proof. Of course you knew I’d been studying you. Your inestimable powers gave you clues to my whereabouts and curiosities long before I made my presence known, yet when at last we came face to face, you were the perfect gentleman I knew you would be in that instant! What it was for me to stand in the same room with you, and might I say, I loved you right then in that second, in that hour, yes I did! I might liken it to one studying a Seurrat painting up close, each individual dot and mark, and then stepping back to behold the beauty in full, to be dumbstruck by the simplicity born of each small detail. Such I was with you that night, amant. Such I am still on this night when I pen these words for you._

_How often has it happened that I’ve been unjustly cruel to you in the years of our acquaintance? Of course you are not the only victim, but perhaps because of who you are to me and all you have done for me so selflessly in devotion, my insults and aggressions hurt you most of all. It would be easy for me to claim that I don’t mean any of the things I say, but it would be untrue after all, and cruel or kind I’ve always tried to be truthful with you – at least so far as I can remember. You know me better than I know myself at times David, and so you understand that my cutting words are often merely a defense or a childish grab at some sort of power when all along no power ever leaves me at all. Why I do these things is for a scholarly mind beyond my own to discern, and I won’t put it in your lap. Merely again I wanted to convey my regrets for such acts in the past and for those sure to come. I know you forgive me time and time again, yet I want you to know I do not take that forgiveness for granted._

_Sometimes I know you feel left out, David. Though I might indicate otherwise at times, I do know of your love and devotion to me. It must be difficult for you to watch me with others, particularly with Louis and to know in minute detail what goes on behind closed doors for the fact that you and I have had remarkable moments of similar intimacy. How do I let you know that even as I am happy and content, I miss you? You will ask how it is that I could miss you when you’re always available and only ever a few blocks away from me when you’re in the city. You see, I miss you because you are part of me David. This blood we share, it sings inside of me. It is a river perhaps that longs to have each of its streams in close residence, running in little tendrils from her side. When you and I are apart, in form or mentally, there is that intangible yearning. I doubt that you or the world will ever comprehend how much I wish that I could somehow incorporate you all, my beloved sons of the blood, back into my very being. It is perhaps foolish to say, for always you will be part of me, as will Louis or any of your immortal siblings. Yet there is more to what I mean by this wish of incorporation, and I cannot adequately explain to anyone, even you. I wish I were a light, a radiant light, made up with all of you who shine within me, and that each and every hour I could breathe in your essences and energies, and that in turn you would receive and exude mine. Ah, foolishness, what do I know? I should put away such lofty speeches that leave me sounding like a new age puppet, but I do wish I could put in tangible terms for everyone. Perhaps you if anyone at all will understand my desires._

_At any rate, whether I’m a mad rambling idiot or a savvy, sexy guru, I want to know that these words made you smile and made you hold me just a little tighter in your heart. It is all I ever really want from anyone. I am a needy, spoiled child behind these features and form of a man, and forever will I need fed and nurtured by your love, David._

Whether or not I intended for the letter to have an effect, I was given the pleasure of seeing the varied shift of emotions upon his face as he read. Nothing in the letter was overtly stunning news to him, for over the years I’d apologized probably hundreds of times to him and anyone else I’d intentionally or subtly offended. I do apologize you know, I can. I just don’t see the need very often, or I’ll say it just to calm the waters as they say. Then there are instances where it is deserved and far more than warranted. He finished the letter and tucked it into his wallet. I told him he didn’t need to frame it but that he could, if he wished, hang it onto the refrigerator at his home with a magnet. That might have pleased me more than he knew, for his mortal companions to read it, particularly this Joey kid, and for them to see and barely comprehend how much I truly loved him. I couldn’t think of that boy while I watched David, or my distaste would surely show. Instead I pulled him down next to me and we began to kiss and caress one another to the rapid point of wanting more. I had told him earlier that we could go outside to our newly refurbished courtyard and as he put it “copulate” to our hearts content, however as we sat there laughing about it, we realized it wasn’t very practical and I vowed to bring in further comforts to the courtyard in order to rectify the inconvenience. We decided to settle for the lush furnishings of the townhouse, as they were certainly in no way a lesser substitute for intimacy. As we were downstairs, he asked if I was prepared to carry him again to his bedroom before dawn, as he was frequently … too disheveled and spent to make it on his own. In a preemptive gesture, I scooped him up into my arms and carried him promptly up the staircase to deposit him on his bed. Now perhaps you are rubbing your little mortal hands together or licking your lips in anticipation of ‘the good stuff’, in lurid detail. Well I’m not going to give it to you tonight, because aside from the fact that David himself has been explicit enough lately in his literary deposits, I just don’t feel like it, and you know how it is trying to change my mind. Okay, maybe you don’t but still, imagine it please? You’re creative children.

What I will reveal is that since it was his birthday and since I had a fine and well-worn leather belt around my waist, and since I had to remove it anyhow… it was put to good use. Of course given that he has so many years behind him, I couldn’t give him one hit for each, could I? So it was only a few, but as is often the case with me, I make my point in direct sharpness when I can. When I’m not being an ass, I can actually make it feel good. Thusly was the eve of David’s birthday: Another year in our eternity, another renewal of our love and passion, and another passing chance to let him know just how much he means to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
